


Ripped Apart

by The_Golden_Trashcan_TM



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Body Horror, But otherwise, be aware of that if you don't like it, it's anGST BABY, nothing but it, so like, there's some depiction of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 23:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM/pseuds/The_Golden_Trashcan_TM
Summary: idk y’all it’s just remus being a monster that leads to the appearance of a new side





	Ripped Apart

Virgil backed away, looking at the melting form of Remus. He was nothing more than a pile of mistakes, clawing their way towards him. Virgil had done everything to separate himself from him. From _them_. From everything he had hated about himself. He had finally managed to be one of the good guys. To be one of those who helped Thomas instead of hindering. He could finally do his job of protecting…

“Do you know what it’s like?”

Virgil hadn’t even notice Remus seeping into his room. Hadn’t noticed the shadows growing darker, spilling and piling up in the corners. How they fell from the ceiling as he laid with his eyes closed and headphones on, trying to recover from the drama of the day. He was supposed to have been prepared though. He was supposed to have known what their invasive presence was like. He should have known.

Remus was slowly putting himself together, arms and legs and heads all breaking through the madness, vying for some semblance of a form. “Do you know how much pain and agony that comes from being ripped apart from yourself?”

Virgil was backed against the wall, Remus’ rippling mass between him and the door. He could try to make a break for it, but he couldn’t be sure he could make it. He could try to call for help, but he knew no one would here. They never heard his calls.

Remus twitched and sputtered, and he fused and pulled and tricked himself together, clicking and glitching, arms and legs moving unnaturally. Virgil knew he was trying to have some approximation of form. One of his heads smiled, his mouth splitting the surface of a sickly pale-green face. His eyes were blank, fiery coals burning into Virgil’s very being. “Would you like to find out, dear one?”

Remus was on him before he could even think to move, his half together form oozing and solidifying around him and Virgil knew he was done for. Remus wrapped around him, squeezing, sticking to every piece of skin not clothed. His very touch burned like acid as he pulled Virgil further and further into his writhing mass. He was engulfed in seconds, his breath cut off as he was absorbed, millions upon millions of voices laughing and screaming and crying in his ear. Remus’ voice rose above the rest as he whispered: “Are you ready, Virgil?”

He choked on his words as Remus began to pull at him again, this time in two opposing directions. It was hard to describe the sensation that went through Virgil as Remus began to rip him apart. It was as if every cell, every molecule, every atom was doing everything it could to combat this invasion but was failing.

Virgil tried to scream, to make some sort of noise to bring himself even the tiniest amount of relief, but there was nothing. There was too much and he couldn’t begin to understand what was happening to his body. He was slowly going numb, his consciousness slipping further and further away. Everything was so fuzzy…

****************************

There was a dull ache at the base of his skull and his felt like his entire body was nothing but pins and needles as he sat up from the floor. It felt wrong. Like there was something that should have been there but wasn’t.

Looking around, Virgil could see he was still in his room, but Remus was gone. Everything was mostly normal except…

Something bright, bright orange was in the corner of his room, hiding behind his bed. Slowly he went over only see… “No…No you can’t exist.”

It was another Side. Orange shirt and white ripped jean, he was huddled in the corner, eyes wide as he looked every which way, trying to gauge his surroundings.

“Who—Who are you?”

He looked up at Virgil, his eyes taking in everything all at once, assessing. The, with jerky movements and a pained look, he stood. Still holding himself, he said, “I’m—I’m Panic.”


End file.
